A Killing Word

“The power of words can never be underestimated, Morthos!”, one of the first lessons by Anathaea and one of her most often repeated ones. And yet only now is it that I begin to grasp its true meaning. And danger…
 
As planned yesterday, we headed out through forested hills to find Wyvern Tor and with it the marauding orcs we were now warned about twice. They were easily found, especially with the description of their position, Hamun gave us yesterday. A mile before we reached the actual site, the forest grew quiet around us, not even Grum could detect any animals daring to come to these parts. Then the stench came. Unwashed, sweaty creatures, decaying carcasses, burned wood and flesh – hard to miss. We continued on quietly, trying to make sure we would see the enemy before they might see us. Our plan was to capture at least one of the orcs in the hopes he might have some knowledge regarding Cragmaw Castle. But first we would have to know what we were facing.
 
After a few more minutes of travel, we saw a first guard posted at some rocks. Behind him a cave opened into the mountain. The orc was taller than most I have seen in Neverwinter and quite broad, leaning nonchalantly on a spear, visibly bored by his task. In this moment I figured, maybe songs and charms may not be the only asset my humble skill set has to offer. The absence of sound may prove just as effective. Hence, I cast an area of silence surrounding the guard while Nysqwen and Grum charged at the surprised orc. He was quickly slain, his shouts for alarm lost within the soundless bubble I’d thrown around him. So yes, I see my experiment as success. This might prove handy in other circumstances as well…
 
When we examined the corpse, Nysqwen found a tattoo on his forearm that according to her marked him as belonging to the Many-Arrows tribe. And, much to my astonishment, she had heard of this tribe before in songs on her journey, telling of a ruthless band of killers and berserkers that roamed the land killing everything in their way. I have to ask her about this song before we leave, I want to know more. And add it to my collection of course, maybe giving it a new melody…
 
Knowing now who we were facing, we sneaked forward to the cave’s entrance to assess what we were dealing with. I went ahead, quickly was within and hid in the shadows. I could make out seven orcs in total, four of them sitting around a table listening to one broader than the rest telling some kind of tale in their barbaric language. Three others were sprawled on the ground. After a few seconds a mass in one of the corners of the cave that I so far had identified as a heap of rocks suddenly moved and revealed itself to be a massive ogre! I had to pull myself together with all my will to keep calm and not expose my hiding place.
 
I went back to my three friends to report about my findings. As much a threat the orcs and especially the ogre might pose, we wanted to go through with our plan and prepared for battle. In a chokepoint between the mountain and a few large boulders, Archie poured a buddle of oil he bought in Phandalin, planning on lighting it up whenever the first of our foes would reach it. Grum and Nysqwen courageously posed as the front line while Archie and I stayed back to support them with all we had. Archies new beetle positioned itself to fight alongside our party. When all was prepared, we shouted for their attention which we quickly got. The fierce ogre was the first to reach our two brave friends who did as best as they could to fend him off, while Archie saw to the oil being ignited. This was well done, as it did not take long to slay the huge creature, although Nysqwen got badly injured in the process. Thankfully, a few well placed notes can work true wonders in overcoming even grave wounds, so she could fight on. The battle continued for a while, we exhausted what we had yet eventually got the upper hand. Nysqwen surprised us yet again when she suddenly spewed forth a cone of flames that engulfed three orcs. To keep bloodshed to a minimum I tried do lay to sleep the last two remaining orc warriors and their leader but only succeeded for the first two. Grum had taken his bear-shape and managed to wrestle down the brute still standing in a final attack.
 
So here we were, four adventurers that only met ten days ago, defeating eight orcs and one ogre without one loss on our side. What makes me proud more than all else is how we work together, how we look out for each other and help the ones in need without too much regard for our own physical integrity. Grum’s ties with nature, Nysqwen’s sheer force and Archie’s creativity with his contraptions make these friends unique people. Within ten days it feels like I have found friends I was searching all my life for, with Anataea being the exception. She always believed I would find a place to fit in, this might be just it.
 
We bound the orcs and contemplated how to proceed. The idea of torture is gruesome and barbaric, not an option we considered. Yet, Archie had the idea to hang the orc chief on his feet from the ceiling over a basin of water that emerged at the far end of the cave. He was still unconscious which made it an easy task although I was not to sure what Archie hoped to achieve by that. The two other orcs reawakened soon after their binding and without pause voiced curses and shouts in a language gladly none of us understood. We tried to reason with both, intimidate, question yet nothing seemed to calm them, not mentioning getting them to talk to us.
 
Once their leader awakened after being dipped into the cold pool by Archie – I began to understand why he hung him up like that and got only slightly worried about his lessening restraint from taking to extreme measures – he joined the fierce shouting of his fellow raiders. I could not help myself but to answer his shouts with a vicious utterance in his direction to shut up. As I said at the beginning, never, not once, underestimate the power, a single word can have. The orc in his rope did indeed not utter another word. And he never again will. He died, hanging there from his feet by the careless curse of a baffled bard. These were our enemies, but they were defeated, bound and harmless. I cannot forgive myself for loosing my reticence after being mildly provoked and thereby taking a helpless life. I am deeply shocked by myself. All I can do is to promise to never be so careless ever again. Every life deserves a chance, only in self defence you might be forced to take one. Ruthless killing is not the way to harmony, beauty or knowledge. I have to make amends. And I swear to Mystra, I will be more cautious from this day on.
 
Even if it led to such tragic events, my words and the dead chief had the unintended side effect to silence both other captives. They watched me with fear in their eyes, where I hoped to spread mostly joy and laughter on my journeys. For these two it might have been for the better though. They finally consented to answer our questions only to reveal that they knew nothing of Cragmaw castle, nor any other events in the area. They were sent as a scouting party from their tribe to assess how well they might plunder the lands here. We promised to let them go without their weapons if they left and told their leaders that this was no place for marauding orcs. In sight of our strength, how they called it, they promised to do so.
 
Now they are on their way back and we can take the time to lick our wounds. This cave seems to be not entirely natural, I wonder what that might be about. Something must have lived here once and built the entrance and whatever may lie behind the water basin behind my back. But there is no time to concern ourselves with such ponderings now, we have to get back on track and focus on finding Gundren! None of the others seem to begrudge my mistake in dealing with the orc chief. I hope this day only served to bring all of us closer together, the way I experienced it. Now I should distract myself in composing a song about the battle of Wyvern Tor.